Don't Weigh Me Down
by hopelesslyhalfhearted
Summary: Once 9:30 came around, the buffet was seriously dilapidated, and if I used the toilet excuse one more time to escape a conversation, Mum would have offered me some of her Tena Lady for my bladder weakness.
1. Wake Up, It's a Beautiful Morning

Saturday 12th June.

I hate mornings. They're always the worst part of the day.

It is the beginning, the start, and we've all heard 'the first time's always the worst', whether it's said by someone trying to convince you it's a good idea to hurl yourself out of a plane when you're thousands of feet up, with only a flimsy piece of material slowing you down; or mentioned during that talk you had about losing your virginity.

I like to say this little phrase to myself everytime I wake up.

The first time is always the worst.

Of course, in my case, it's the first few minutes of the day, but the meaning is still there.

Plus, 9 times out of 10 you'll wake up regretting the night before; the amount you drunk, who you kissed, what crazy drunken stunts you pulled (sometimes the muscle you pulled in the process). Either this, or you feel unbelievably guilty for something you did previously, something which had probably kept you awake, as your thoughts ran wild, the night before. I honestly can't remember the last time I woke up and felt completely free of regret or guilt.

That particular morning was even worse than the usual hell. I wasn't in my own bed, wrapped up warm with my heavy curtains drawn, blocking out the outside world, most importantly the sun. No, that morning I was thousands of feet above some ridiculously hard to pronounce European city, in an uncomfortable seat, made out of possibly the itchiest material known to man, and on top of that the bastard next to me had decided to slide up the blind.

Then there was the drawl of the annoying, albeit very pretty, air hostess, asking whether 'Madam' would like tea or coffee.

I got the former feeling; regret, although for once it didn't involve alcohol. Why did I offer to be the one sat in the seperate seat, away from the other two? I peered down the aisle, managing to just see her head rested on his shoulder, the familiar blonde locks spread out behind her neck. If I hadn't so bloody selfless I could of been sat there, next to an angel, instead of a fat businessman, whose extra large belly had knocked my dinner off the tray within hours off our takeoff; I looked down at my white shirt, a red patch covering most of it.

There's another thing about mornings, judging by how they go, you can pretty much work out how the rest of the day will be.

Judging by that morning, the day ahead wasn't going to be very good.

**it's short. i know. sorry about that.  
it's going to be a multi-chapter thingy ma bobby extravaganza.  
oooh, writing fanfiction for a british show. i can put some cultural references in and i can use the word rubbish once more. can't wait.**


	2. I'm a Joker, I'm a Smoker

Friday 18th June.

Friday night was movie night, at least in my life it was. Most Friday's I would spend hours (that should have been spent on finishing up paperwork) trailing through the Blockbuster website, looking to see what films were available at the local shop. My job was just boring like that. It never seemed to be like on the TV, you know CSI, Waking the Dead, that sort of thing. That week, leading up to movie night, I think we'd had an old lady who'd died of an accidental overdose of her sleeping pills and some guy who'd fallen down some stairs (Nikki, for some unfathomable reason, enjoyed this case)

I'm not saying that these deaths aren't tragic or upsetting, they clearly are. And I'm not saying that I want more people to die, because I really don't. But, I just think, you know, if they're going to die, at least make it interesting for us.

Back to movies.

Friday night Nikki and I always watch a film, we take turns to choose the film, which means every other week I end up bored out of mind for 2 hours. Friday the 18th was one of these nights. I was dreading discovering what she had slotted into the machine, waiting to begin playing it on her ridiculously large telly. I'm not even sure how she managed to fit it in her living room, which was hardly big.

Sometimes I'd walk or cycle, but for some reason it had decided to pour it down in the middle of June, although I shouldn't have been surprised, it was England after all. It was the rain which had woken me up in the morning, not only this, but today of all days, my roof had decided to suddenly develop a million holes, which amounted to random buckets being strategically placed around my apartment and my kitchen floor being slightly damp.

So, I drove and because of my 'I'm driving I don't need a coat' train of thought, I was left to dash up the rather long path from the road to Nikki's front door in a thin shirt. It was only a few seconds, but by the time I had reached the pale blue door I was drenched. My shirt had gone see through and all the work I had put into my hair had become pointless, as it hung straight downwards, water dripping off each strand.

She laughed when she let me in, though didn't waste too much time before going to fetch me a towel, something I was very grateful for. She also brought down a man's shirt, clean and seemingly freshly washed. I hadn't been aware that any man had stayed in her life long enough to warrant keeping clothes at her house.

"Who's is this?" I tried to sound as light hearted as possible, making sure my shock didn't show, as she handed it over to me.

"Yeah," She said dismissively before walking into the kitchen, leaving me to change shirts.

"Yeah?" I asked as I joined her.

"Yeah, I need to tell you stuff," I wondered why she had waited until now to talk to me, it must have been going on for quite a while, whatever 'it' was. She put some popcorn in the microwave and leant her back against the counter top whilst she waited for it to cook. She let one arm sort of hug her stomach, whilst twiddling her hair around the fingers of her other hand.

"What are we watching tonight, then?"

"You'll have to wait and see, Mr Impatient,"

"I won't worry too much, I already know the ending,"

"You do?"

"Yeah," I grinned, anticipating her reaction to what I was about to say. "The woe ridden couple overcome all the odds and end up happy together,"

"Harry!" As I had expect, she reached out and hit me on the arm, I feigned pain. "At least they don't always end with some huge battle scene,"

I was about to reply, when I realised that I actually had no comeback, it was true, that was how all my films ended. She giggled and I promptly shut my mouth, which must have been gaping open. The microwave pinged, indicating the snack was ready, which meant it was time to begin.

I never paid much attention to the films that she chose, though I was always careful not to fall asleep, the repercussions would probably end up being quite painful. Today she'd chosen to make me watch her One Tree Hill box set. Personally, I hated it. The accents were impossible to understand, a headline declaring that the Dalai Lama was the new President of China would be more believable than some of the plot lines they used and the characters had as much personality as a group of stick men, which coincidentally they all resembled. Seriously, no high school has _that _many gorgeous people.

"Who's your favourite couple?" She asked halfway through. Of course, I couldn't really have one, that would require actually watching the show, but after every time she made me watch an episode I would Wikipedia the story lines, just in case she asked me any questions like this. Thank God it was just a general question and not one about the episode we had been watching at the time, otherwise I would have been seriously.

"Brooke and Lucas," I answered, they seemed to be together in that episode, although I could never really be sure. No relationship could possibly have _that _much drama.

"Really?"

"Erm...yeah..." I hoped she hadn't realised I had no clue about anything and I prayed she wouldn't ask any more questions.

"I hate them,"

"Really? Why?" I tried to sound engaging, as if I were wanting to start up a conversation, but I was hoping I could get her to go off on one and have a little rant about how bad the couple was.

"They're always so...dramatic, you know? And even when there isn't some stupidly ridiculous big thing about murdering brothers or crap, they still manage to get into arguments. I mean, you'd think if they loved each other that much, that they'd just be glad to have a break from the crazy, instead of making more. And plus, Lucas is a dick. And they try to show Brooke as this sassy, independent girl, but somehow she keeps being pathetic and taking Lucas back and crap. It's just silly, none of it is consistent." I nodded and made a kind of humming sound in agreement.

"Who's your favourite then?"

"Johnny and June," She must have noticed the look of terror, from not knowing which characters she was talking about, creep onto my face, because very quickly she added. "They're not on a show," Phew.

"Oh?" I wasn't in the sort of mood where I actually wanted to use words. Noises and grunts would make up for them, and I hoped she'd understand that by oh I meant 'What are they from then?'

"I can't believe you've never heard of Johnny Cash and June Carter." She did understand. I shrug my shoulders. "There's a whole film about it!" She had begun waving her hands a little then, maybe she was hoping making random circles in the air would make me work out their life story.

"I've heard of Cash,"

"I'd have had to kill you if you hadn't." I nodded again. "Basically they fell in love, even though they were kinda married and stuff. Basically everything was really complicated. She helped him through drug addiction, stopped him dying, they had a TV show together, had kids, recorded music," She listed all these achievements as if they were nothing more than a shopping list, I started to think maybe she wanted to get back to watch the atrocious show. "But the reason I really love them is cause they really loved each other. I mean, she died and he died a couple of months later. That's true love. I'd kill to have that,"

"The person you love dropping dead and you keeling over a couple months later? Sounds fun," I joked, a grin on my face.

"You always have to ruin stuff don't you!" She laughed as she said it and I knew she was joking, but somehow it got under my skin. Maybe I needed to be more serious. Maybe then I could be boyfriend material for someone. But then I figured if I wanted what Nikki had been going about, true love and stuff, I shouldn't need to change, right? I mean, true love is when someone loves you no matter what. Even if you do make an inappropriate joke at a funeral, just that one time.


	3. Yeah, I'm Hanging on the Telephone

Sunday 20th June.

That morning was a good one. I didn't have to wake up early for work and, for the first time in weeks, there were no builders working next door. There was fresh orange in the fridge, and as I opened up the bread bin, I found I still had one croissant left, much to my delight. As cliché as it sounds, the birds were actually singing, well tweeting.

Talking of tweeting, Nikki had become obsessed with that website thing. I didn't even pretend to understand it, but it seemed you basically told people what you were doing 24 hours a day, through these things called 'tweets' or something. I think Nikki just liked stalking Ashton Kutcher.

My phone rung and, as usual, my immediate reaciton was to pray it wasn't Leo calling me in. There was no wonder I had no social life outside of work, it seemed I lived there. But then that whole area was a bit like the whole 'chicken or egg first?' dilema. Did I have no social life because of work or did I work because I had no social life?

Caller ID. Mum. Well, that was only one step below Leo on the 'Don't Call me on my Day Off' list. I answered it anyway. What kind of a person rejects their mother? Ok, so maybe I did do it quite often, but there are only so many awkward conversations about the weather forecast and other trivial things that a man can stand.

"Hello," I tried to sound as rushed as possible, in the hope that she might ask if I was going somewhere, to which I would lie and reply yes, and then she would bid me goodbye and tell me she hoped I had a good time, and then one of us would hang up and that would be the end of that.

_"Hello dear,"_

"How are you?"

_"Well, I had Judith and her husband over for tea last night, he's a doctor too, you know," _Mum seemed to be under the impression that to inform someone how you are, you must first give them a run down of your week. _"He's just retired though. I ran into her at the coffee morning, I told you I was going to it, didn't I?"_

"The one at the church?"

_"That's the ticket. Well, she's emigrating to Australia next week, her daughter lives there," _I braced myself. _"You know her daughter's married now? July wedding last year," _Of course I knew. It was the only thing she had talked about since recieving the invitation up until about 3 months after the actual ceremony. _"It could have been you," _I had briefly dated Judith's daughter in my late teen years, Mum had been set on having Judith as an in-law. To be honest, I couldn't even remember her daughter's name. _"Well, I thought it would be nice to catch up before they left and I'd been wanting to test out this new casserole recipe, so I invited them round," _Mum had a tendency to shove a 'well' infront of every sentence, it was similar to those people who constantly insert a 'like' into everything they say. Those people really annoy me.

"Did the casserole go well?"

_"They loved it! I had to print out the recipe for her," _

"You've worked out how to use it then?"

_"Yes, but we had to get the man next door to help," _My phone started vibrating in my hand, I removed it from my ear and quickly checked the screen. Nikki. Thank god.

"One sec Mum, I've got another call coming through. I'll phone you later?"

_"Of course, darling. Love you," _

"You too Mum, bye,"

_"Bye."_

"I love you,"

_"Excuse me?" _The sound of her laughter erupted in my ear.

"The mother."

_"Ok," _She giggled again. I liked that she understood what would have taken at least 2 minutes to explain to someone else, with just two words. _"Well, I wondered if you wanted to pop round for a glass of wine in the sun?"_

"And shouldn't you be at work Miss Alexander?"

_"Not needed,"_

"Are you sure you're not skiving? If you are I won't be able to make the date, it would seem like I was condoning your actions,"

_"Damn it, you saw right through me, I guess the date's off then_." I laughed.

"What time do you want me?"

_"Whenever you're ready," _

"I'll be over in a jiffy,"


	4. I'm Walking on Sunshine

Sunday 20th June.

This time my trip to Nikki's wasn't nearly as difficult. I decided to walk and as I strolled along, the sun scorching hot on my back, I remembered something about Friday that had slipped my mind. I made a mental note to ask her about it, or maybe I wouldn't have to, maybe she'd bring it up. Hopefully she'd bring it up, then there would be no chance of me embarassing myself.

It took me longer than usual to walk to Nikki's that day, it seemed my mind wasn't content with the simple objective of reaching her house, and instead fluttered about, getting distracted by just about everything I passed. One of the gardens I walked by was landscaped to perfection, my first thought was of how much it must have cost the bugger living in the old, white building that stood proudly behind the numerous flower beds, their colours ranging from the deepest purples to the lightest sky blue. The centerpiece was a tree, in full bloom, with a bench curved around its trunk. I had no idea you could get blossom in summer, but I guess you learn something new everyday.

It was utterly mesmorising, and I would have stayed staring at it for longer if I wasn't weary of the small, delicate white flowers setting off my hayfever. I was amazed my eyes weren't itching yet. Maybe that day would be one of the rare occasions on which my eyes decided they were fed up of watering and my nasal passages obeyed my wishes.

Theoretically it was still morning, though only just, by the time I reached Nikki's house, as my watch hadn't yet ticked around to midday. Judging by the morning I'd had, that day was defiantly going to be good.

Her place looked so much more inviting in the sunshine, and you could tell that the exterior was white, not the dingy gray that the rain had masked it as. What a difference a day makes. Well, in this case two. I knocked on the door, I'd been telling her to get a doorbell for god knows how long, but she refused. She wasn't the one who had to wear down the skin on her knuckles, trying to get the crazy lady inside to open up. I continued knocking, but 10 minutes later I still go no answer.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I opened it up. One new message.

_Go straight round the back, I won't be able to hear you knock. x_

Great, now she tells me. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and marched around the side of the building, my throbbing hand putting a slight damper on my mood. She was sprawled out across the grass, staring up at the white clouds that floated by. There was a wine glass perched precariously on the uneven ground beside her on one side and a book lay open on the other.

Time for revenge.

**well, there goes another ridiculously short chapter about pretty much nothing significant, just like the 3 before it. **

**but i'm getting to the juicy stuff. just you wait. they'll be some pathetic fallacy for you next , check me out with my fancy literary device.**

**oh, the chapters are all lyrics. i've written the chapter and then though of a lyric that would match it. but i'm desperate to try and get an emmy the great lyric in here, so maybe in the future it will be the lyric that inspires the writing**

**thanks for taking time to read this drabble in bold. and all the other poo in **regular.

**i like you a lot.**


	5. Strange How Hard it Rains Now

Sunday 20th June.

"HARRY!" Nikki squealed like a young school girl, before jumping up quickly and turning to glare at me. Her angry face had the opposite of the desired effect and only made me laugh more. I twisted the nozzle back around and let another jet of water collide with her. "HARRY!" She screamed again and this time I didn't turn the nozzle back around, allowing the water to continue shooting out and aimed it directly at her. She jumped and run around, attempting to dodge to spray, but failing. "STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Within seconds she had run towards me and attempted to grab the green piping away, but failed and in the process of which soaked me. I tickled her, trying to get her off the hose, instead she fell to the floor, somehow still managing to have hold. I followed her move, continuing to tickle her. She writhed about, trying to get free.

I had to stop momentarily and allow myself to sneeze, my hay fever decided it would make an appearance after all. I noticed the hose wasn't the only thing producing water, the sky seemed to be leaking too, dark clouds had appeared above us. So much for a nice summer day. I didn't stop though.

"STOP IT!" Suddenly her face turned serious, and her voice wasn't playful as before, it seemed she had changed just as quickly as the weather. "JUST STOP IT!" I removed my hands from her sides and quickly turned off the hose. I stood up and offered her a hand up, which she rejected. "DAVID WILL BE HERE SOON!"

"David?" I couldn't help but laugh slightly, her eye make up had run and her hair looked like a birds nest.

"WILL YOU QUIT LAUGHING FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE?" I looked straight into her eyes and any laughter inside me shrunk away.

"Who's David?" I spoke carfeully, trying to calm her down.

"MY BOYFRIEND! I LOOK DREADFUL!" Her boyfriend? She had a_ boyfriend_? A boyfriend that visited her house more than once? A boyfriend that visited her house _at all_? I couldn't understand why she hadn't told me about it, what baffled me even more was the fact that I hadn't noticed anything different about her. She seemed exactly the same. I mean, there hadn't been any clues. She was still free every Friday night and...Friday...the shirt.

"It was his shirt?"

"YES!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"IF HE SEES US LIKE THIS HE'LL THINK...he'll think..." That infuriated me. It wasn't that she hadn't bothered answering my quesiton, no that was fine. But she just...she...I don't know how explain it. It was like she was choosing him over me, she was changing for someone else, she was changing how our friendship worked. It didn't help that I was already a bit angry that she hadn't told me anything about him, that she hadn't trusted me.

"Wait...you don't want him to see us like this because you don't want him to see you looking bad or because you don't want him getting jealous of your best friend?"

"I..." I couldn't tell if she was crying, there was certainly droplets of water on her cheeks, but I wasn't sure if they were from her or the dark clouds above us.

"I'll just go. We wouldn't want David to get upset," I turned around and strode away from her, feeling her eyes on my back. I didn't even flinch when heard her footsteps behind me, I even continued when I heard her strained voice, even though a part of me desperatly wanted to turn around and hug her.

"Harry that's not what I meant!" Her voice always went low when she was upset, low and raspy.

"Have fun with _David._" I spat out the name of the man venemously, I hadn't met him but somehow, just minutes after founding out he existed, there was nobody I hated more. I suddenly wished I'd come in my car, then I could have jumped in and slammed the door dramatically, like they do in movies. It would have also been a much quicker escape. She wouldn't have been able to follow me if I was in my car.

"We went out for a bit at Uni," She wasn't getting the message. Maybe I needed to make it clearer. I quickened my pace. She quickened hers. "Then we met at this reunion thing," I spun around. Reunion? I remembered her talking about it. But that was so long ago...there was no way she would keep something from me for that...

"The reunion last year?"

"Yes..." She was silent, staring into my face. She was trying to work out how I was feeling, she always did it. I tried not to give anything away, although I'm pretty sure my efforts were hopeless, she knew me too well. "He asked me out on a date and we..."

"You've been going out with him since then?"

"Yes, but if you'd just let me..."

"Explain?" I stopped and turned around to face her. I could hear my breathing getting deeper and felt my teeth clench. There was nothing I could do to stop it, it was an instant reaction, programmed into me since birth. "You want to explain how you managed to keep something like this from me for a _year_?"

"I..."

"You know what, forget it." I begun walking again, but this time even quicker. She was really struggling to keep up now, her flip flops clapped against the pavement in the most annoying way, splashing in the puddles that had quickly formed. It was the sort of noise that made me want to turn around and snap them in half, like when idiots let little kids attempt to play the violin.

"It was just one little comment, can't you just let..."

"Let it slide?" This time the quick turn made me feel quite dizzy and my hair flicked thousands of droplets of water onto her face. "And when you start cancelling on me? When Friday nights become annual occasions? How about when you start calling in sick all the time? Do I let that slide?"

"Are you...are you upset that I didn't tell you or because now you don't get my undivided attention?" Both? Was I allowed to say that? Probably not. Would I have admitted it at the time? Certainly not. "I'm 33! I want a life outside of work and one friend. Sure, you might not be able to get the want to have children, what with your pathological desire to never pass on your many god awful traits. Grow up Harry, you're acting like a kid," She really thought I was that bad? I wasn't acting like a child. She was, it was her. Everything was her fault. At least, in my state, that was how it seemed. I drew in a sharp intact of breath, my teeth gritted and my fists curled into tight balls.

"I'm not really upset," Oh god. I knew I should have shut my mouth there and then, but I couldn't, it was built into me. Built in motor mouth, built in offensive arsehole mode, built in 'I can't shut up' syndrome. One of those 'god awful traits' that I possesed. I'd come out so _well _in the genetic lottery. "I'm just in shock. I mean, who'd have know you'd be able to actually keep a man around for longer than a night?"

I hated the sound of her flip flops. I hated it even more when they were running in the opposite direcion.


	6. I Feel Worse Than When S Club 7 Broke Up

Monday 21st June.

If you haven't realised by now, which means you must be pretty thick, I have a thing for mornings. They always seem to be what I remember. For instance, the only thing that I can remember vividly about the day my dad died was that I had cornflakes for breakfast and the milk, which I had poured on them, had gone sour. My mum forced me to eat them, insisting that it wasn't _that _sour and that would be a waste of cereal, and if it was indeed, as disgusting as I made out, it would be a lesson to me about thinking and checking before you do something.

The morning of June 21st was a sour milk morning. I slept through my alarm, after having less than 2 hours sleep from worrying over the whole thing, and somehow managed to get my shirt on inside out. It was kinda lucky that I had no time for breakfast, if I had eaten, I'm pretty sure I would have ended up with sour milk once again.

I stalled the car on the driveway, and once again in the middle of the junction at the end of the road. I could just about make out the look of anger on the face of the man, whom I had held up, through the rain that dripped down his windscreen. It hadn't stopped raining all night, and didn't look like it was in the mood to stop anytime soon.

Usually when it rained I'd park in the one parking space that was slightly higher than the others, so I didn't have to stand in a puddle when I got out, but that day the car park was just one massive puddle. I cringed as I slowly climbed out of the car, attempting to only step on my tip toes, feeling the water seep through and spread out when it reached my socks. I realised that I had been in such a rush that I had forgotten to bring my umberella. Bloody brilliant.

The careful exit from the car proved pointless, as, once realising how hard the rain was falling, I made a mad dash into the building, soaking my shoes and the bottom of my trousers in the process.

"Morning Harry," Well, at least he hadn't put a good at the beginning. For it certainly wasn't.

"Leo," I sort of nodded my head in acknowledgement, as I sat down at my desk. Unusually, there was no Nikki occupying it. It was expected of course, but a part of me was still hoping that either last night had been a dream, or Nikki and knocked her head and forgotten all about it. What Leo said next guaranteed that, unfortunately, neither of these outcomes happened.

"Nikki got out quickly on a case," Leo mused, possibly because he noticed my, not so short, look towards her desk. "She seemed very eager to get out..." He always did that when he wanted me to explain what was going on, but felt it wasn't his business to ask directly. He'd just sort of trailing off into silence, hoping for me to fill in the gaps. I wasn't in the mood for explaining that day.

"Maybe it was an interesting case," I offered, trying to seem uninterested. Luckily Leo was the kind of guy who didn't push things, so he kept quiet, though I was pretty sure he knew something was up.

I lost track of the time, getting lost in my thoughts, and attempting, in vain, to get some paperwork done. When I heard the swoosh of the door opening, I looked up at the clock for the first time and saw it was 3 in the afternoon, I'd missed lunch and breakfast, and with all my thoughts being focused on a certain blonde, I hadn't taken time out to even notice my stomach. Now that I had realised the time, my belly rumbled, desperately trying to tell me to shove something down my throat, not used to having to wait longer than a few hours between meals. I did some quick maths. It had been 20 hours since I had eaten anything, even then it had only been a slice of toast, the argument with Nikki seemed to have put me off eating for a while.

It was Nikki who had cause the opening of the door, the cause of my little diversion into the need to eat. Her hair was down, and I suspect, unlike mine, it had had some time spent on it in the morning, but the work had been undone by the rain, and now her blonde locks drooped misserably over her face, her parting out of place and all traces of product washed away.

"Hello," Leo said cheerily. Somehow, he wasn't wet at all. I spent some time trying to work out if he had managed to avoid the downpour (which would have probably taken and umbrella the size of Scotland and 249 layers of waterproof clothing) or if he had dried off. Usually I would have settled on the latter, but knowing Leo, I couldn't be sure, the lucky bugger had probably found some way of avoiding getting even slightly damp. Maybe he slept over.

"Hi," I was brought out of my thoughts by here deadpan voice, flat and lifeless, just like her hair. Normally I would have found someway of fitting in a highly unsuitable and inappropraite joke, but that day wasn't a 'normally' day. Normally I would have been out on the case with her, normally I would have inisted driving her to work because she was scared driving in bad conditions, normally I would have spent the whole day teasing her about said fear, but secretly being glad that I had been able to spend an extra20 minutes with her, chatting about insignificant things.

No, that day was deifnatly not a normal day.


	7. Tell Her That I Just Can't Go On

Sunday 27th June.

We need to talk. That has to be the worst sentence in the world, apart from hearing 'I'm very sorry Mr...' come out of the lips of someone in a white coat, whilst you are sat in a hospital waiting room, not that I would know how that felt, but I'm pretty certain it must be worse.

The rain had finally cleared, but clouds still hung over, blocking out the moon and any stars that could have brightened up the sky. It would have been pitch black if it weren't for the numerous city lights brightening up the sky. I always loved night time in the city. I know London's no New York, but it still seems to never quite go to bed, like the naughty kid who you know will be in their bedroom, but the chances of them actually trying to get to sleep are 100 to 1.

I knew what the sky looked like because, unlike most nights (where I sat inside watching The Office box set), I was sat on a wall on Lower Addison Gardens, deciding whether it was such a good idea to actually be here. I had been trying to force myself to ring the bell for the past hour, but I'd begun to convince myself that, in the interests of self preservation, I should avoid all confrontations with her.

The part of my brain that was slightly less of a pussy, told me I should go, face the consequences, whatever they may be; I had basically called her a slag after all. It told me that it was ridiculous that I hadn't spoken a word to my best friend for a whole week, something which I had never done before, with anyone, not just Nikki.

"Hey!" Someone had come out of the pale blue door, and had begun to march towards me. "Bugger off will you?" I stood up and stepped out of the dark shade of the tree that rose up above me.

"Who are you?" I'd never seen him in the building before, and I spent half my free time there.

"I think the question is, who are _you?_" He was the type of man who waved his arms around as he spoke. Maybe he was a sign language translator. Maybe he was just one of those annoying people. Either way, he was irritating me.

"You don't live here, maybe you should leave me alone, hmm?" He shook his head and made a sort of tutting sound. "If someone who actually lives here as a problem with me, I'll be more than happy to move," I wasn't sure why I was being so stubborn, I think it was because his opening sentence was to tell me to bugger off. A please wouldn't go a miss.

"Really? You're that childish? Fine then," He pulled out a mobile phone and paced up and down, waiting for the person on the other end to answer. "Hey, yeah, so he's refusing to move. Yes, I know," He drew out the last word, pushing air through a small gap in his teeth, before quickly inhaling, producing a piercing whistle type noise. "He says he'll move if someone from the building asks him. Yep. Ok. Bye." He turned to me, a smug smile on his face. "You know, I'd go now if I were you. My girlfriend's not pretty when she's angry,"

I shrugged. I'd been building myself up for a confrontation withNikki, some angry bird with a prick of a boyfriend didn't really seem all that daunting. I secretly hoped that I had disturbed their weekly sex night, he seemed like to type of guy who would have to have it penned into his diary, spontaneity didn't look to be one of his qualities, what with his top button done up and his slippers, which I had no trouble imagining a grandad wearing.

The door opened again and we both turned our heads to look.

"Seriously, what is your probl..." She didn't finish her question, for she noticed exactly the same thing as I did, seemingly at exactly the same time. "Harry?"

"Err..." I wasn't quite sure what to say. All I could think was that she was at her prettiest when she was angry, contrary to the man's, whom was presumably David, statement.

"What are you doing here?"

"I..." Pull yourself together, I shouted inside myself. It was pathetic. "I needed the file, for the Franklin case. Leo said you'd taken it home,"

"Oh, right..." Was that a hint of disappointment? Maybe it was just my imagination. It probably was. That was how desperate I had become. "It took you an hour to pick up the courage to ask about a case file?" Shit.

"Er...you know, I figured you'd still be angry at me,"

"Stick and stones," The corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards. "You're not angry at me?" I shrugged. Now you may be thinking that I should have nodded my head, told her the truth, but I honestly had no clue. Was I angry still? Or was it just jealousy? Hurt? Betrayal? I really wished I knew, but I had no idea, not even an inkling. I wished I could tell her. Tell her that it wasn't the secret keeping that infuriated me, that that was not what was wrong, that infact the actually secret, the boyfriend, was what made me want to never see her again, that made it so painful. But I didn't even want to admit it to myself at the time. There was no way I could have told her.

"I didn't realise you had company, I'll just get it another time," I turned around and left.

"I'll bring it to work tomorrow!" She called after me.

"Odd man," I heard him grumble, I resisted the urge to swing around a thump him, clenching my fists together in tight balls by my side.

**Title lyric from It's Not You, It's Me by Coconut Records.  
It's fab.**


	8. And I'm Not Sure What the Trouble Was

And I'm Not Sure What the Trouble Was That Started All of This 

Monday 28th June.

"There is your file," I looked up to see her hovering over me, with a ridiculously large grin plastered on her face, with one hand behind her back. "And here," She revealed her hand, a large cup of coffee firmly in her grasp. "Is your favourite coffee," She looked like she had just performed some magic trick, like I should begin applauding her.

"Got mine already," I pointed to the large cardboard cup that sat next to my keyboard. "Maybe...er...Leo would like it?" Her face dropped.

"You're still angry at me, aren't you?" It didn't sound like an accusation, or a question, more a statement.

"Niks, I..." I was lost for words, completely.

"Will you at least let me explain? Then you can hate me as much as you want," I nodded, cautiously, unsure whether I really wanted to hear an explanation behind her relationship. God, it sounded odd saying that she had a relationship. She was in a relationship. Nicola Alexander was somebody's girlfriend. "7, my place?"

"Sure," She smiled weakly, before turning on her high heeled boots and making her way towards the morgue. "Nikki," I called after her. She popped her head around the door that she had just walked through, I paused before speaking again, soaking up the weary smile that she was directing towards me. "I don't hate you." I said it softly, though making sure she would be able to hear. I bowed my head and pretended to be working on the file she had fetched for me. I wasn't sure how long she stayed looking at me, but when I looked up 5 minutes later she was gone.

* * *

I laughed to myself at the situation I was in. Once again I was sat outsideNikki's building, attempting to gather enough courage to go inside. Deja vu or what?

"What's your excuse for dawdling _this_ time?" Oh god. She'd seen me.

"Ask me again in an hour, once I've though one up," She smiled at me, before opening the door wider, allowing me in. The only sound to come out of either of us on the walk up to her apartment came from our feet, clapping against the wooden floor boards.

"Do you want a coffee?" She asked as she let me inside, whilst I looked around. It was suspiciously clean. "I had a clean around this weekend, thought it was about time," She must have noticed my look of confusion.

"Do you have de-caf?" I took a seat on one of the bar stooland began fiddling with a mini electric whisk thingy-ma-bob she had for frothing up milk or something.

"Yes, put it down," I looked at her, a sheepish grin plastered across my face, before putting the thing down.

"Ok Mummy," I was good at acting, especially in front of Nikki. I think maybe I could have gone into it, give George Clooney a run for his money. I could have easily played that fat kid in one of Nikki's movies, you know the one where he comes back years later and looks 'hot' (her word, not mine) and realises he loves his best friend, but she's going out with some complete utter prick. Something like that anyway. Instead, I was left to pretend I was normal happy Harry for most of the time I was around her.

"How is your Mummy?"

"You know, the usual. Boring banter, baking, bonking Barry."

"HARRY!"

"No, Nikki, _I'm_ Harry, she's shagging _Barry_. It would be pretty sick if she was having it off with me, wouldn't it?" She laughed, loudly, before rolling her eyes at my antics and placing a full mug in front of me.. "She wants me to meet him on Saturday."

"Going to bother turning up?"

"Probably not," I smiled. "Got any biscuits?"

"Only digestives,"

"Boring." I got up and begun rummaging through her cupboards, eventually pulling out an unopened packet of hob-nobs. "LIAR!"

"You're unbelievable," She giggled, before settling down into the sofa, cupping her drink in two hands and curling her legs up underneath her. I suddenly realised why had been acting so insanely ok. I was trying to dodge to situation. Always trying to avoid confrontation. Always. God, I was a pathetic excuse for a man.

"No, I'm just a good detective." I sat down opposite her, placing the biscuits on the coffee table, as I did I noticed an issue of Aircraft magazine laying on it. "I find aeronautical things jolly interesting too," She looked at me, utterly bewildered, so I pointed towards the magazine.

"Oooh," I grinned. "It's David's," My smile dropped. "He works for BA, he's actually in Atlanta now, then I think he has a flight to Amsterdam before coming home,"

"He's a pilot?"

"Yes,"

"For a second there I thought you were going to say he was an air hostess. It's a shame really, I would have had an endless stream of jokes...I could have ripped him to shreads,"

"Harry...as much as I'm enjoying this happy joking, I'm pretty sure it's an act." Maybe I wasn't as good at acting as I thought. "Maybe we should just get on with the serious stuff,"

"Niks...I don't need, or want actually, a run down of your history together or his life." I run a hand through my hair. "I just...Nikki, I don't understand why you couldn't tell me."

**Song comes from a Bright Eyes song called Lua. It is completely and utterly mesmerising. I suggest you listen to it. **

**Oh, and the film Harry was on about with falling in love with your best friend is called Just Friends. It's pretty good fun to watch.**

**Thank you ever so much for all your lovely reviews and stuff. **


	9. Spare Me Your Judgements

Monday 28th June.

I was ready for any excuse that came out of her mouth, but what she actually said was totally different to any thought on the subject that I had since finding out (which considering most of my thoughts for the past week had been on just that, it was quite an accomplishment that she was able to surprise me)

"I really wanted to tell you, really I did," She put her coffee down at that point, possibly because she felt lost without the use of her hands to convey her point, something she did often, although I was still at a loss as to how rapid arm motions and erratic hand movements would help me understand anything any better. "I just...god...I couldn't." I felt like telling her that she could tell me anything, though I decided it wasn't needed, as she opened her mouth to say more. "Harry, he's married."

I can't imagine how I must have looked to her, because I'd never really experienced anything like that before. I suddenly felt disappointed in her. Let down. Angry. Upset. Betrayed. Disappointed. Yes, that was what I felt most. Disappointment. That she was stupid enough to get involved with a married man in the first place, that she could, or already had, destroyed some poor woman's life as she had known it. I couldn't believe she was so stupid.

"Well, I mean...he was...he told her about us last week,"

"Last week? You said you'd been going at it for a year!"

"It wasn't just sex!" I suddenly realised how crude my comment seemed. "There was so much to risk and think about and...and...it took a long time, you know, to...to do it...there was the kids to consi..."

"The kids?" No, not even Nikki could be dumb enough to get involved with someone with children, a father.

"He has 3 children."

"3!"

"Don't look at me like that, Harry!" I hadn't been aware I was looking at her like anything, although apparently I was and apparently it was offensive. Maybe she deserved it. "It wasn't like I woke up one day and thought 'Hey, I know what, why don't I go break up a family?'. It wasn't like that."

"But that was how it ended up?"

"What?"

"For fucks sake Nikki, I can't believe you were dumb enough to even start...I mean a married man? Really? With _kids_?"

"Don't you dare start judging me!" She stood up, frustrated. I hadn't meant to sound judgmental, I knew I was meant to be the supportive best friend in this situation, not the...well...I don't know what, but I certainly wasn't meant to be the person I was being. "I know it's wrong ok? I'm not an idiot. But I love him Harry, I love him and I just...I love him, really love him. I feel so guilty about it, but I can't help it, alright? It's not like you can switch love off, you know?"

Of course I bloody knew. I really wished I could have switched it off right then, to have been able to just become some person who was totally unaffected by her decleration of love for some prick. But, as she said, you _can't_ turn it off, so I was stuck with a lump in my throat and a weird achey feeling inside me.

At the time though, I had no thoughts on switching love off. She was Nikki. I didn't _love _her. Not like that. No. I would never admit that, well not until a long time afterwards at least. I contributed the weird ache to the odd tasting coffee she had given me, maybe she had used sour milk (oh the infamous sour milk, it seems to follow me everywhere) The lump in my throat had also come about for the same reason, of course.

It was odd really. I felt the urge to run away from her, to turn my back and run as far as I could. But then I realised I would be breaking a promise I had made to myself that very night. I would always see her as a friend before anything. Because that was how she needed me, as a friend. And that was the only way she would ever need me. Because what I felt towards her was just a little crush, a fluttering fancy that would disappear as soon as it arrived. There was no way I would ever be stupid enough to give up our friendship all because of a schoolboy crush.

"You love him?"

"Very much."

"Well..."

"He asked me out for coffee after the reunion and we went out quite a bit...then he told me he was married...but...but..." She seemed to have trouble finishing her sentence, so I did it for her.

"It was too late by then." She looked down at me, biting her lip, something she did out of habit when she was nervous. "Have you met the children?"

"They're coming to dinner on Friday." She sat back down. "And before you say anything, I know it's movie night, but,"

"Nikki. About what I said that day...I really don't...I didn't mean it. Missing movie night didn't even cross my mind," I looked at her as sincerly as possible. The ache still hadn't gone away and I felt the need to get a glass of water because the lump wasn't budging either.

"I know. I was just wondering if maybe...if you'd like to come? I mean, it won't be anything fancy at all, and I just...it would be nice to have support."

"I have dinner with my Mum on Saturday," She didn't irrupt, knowing I was going to continue. "Maybe meeting two new boyfriends in one weekend is a bit much. I...you should let his kids get to know you, I'm sure they'll love you,"

"Not really. I broke up their parents."

"Everyone loves you Nikki."

"So, it's a no?"

"I'll do it another time, once _you've _got to know them." I took a deep breath. I couldn't believe I was letting her off so lightly. I should have been shouting at her. But instead I was agreeing to meet up with prick's children? God, I really was pathetic.

**Lyric for this title comes from Thistle & Weeds by Mumford & Sons. Absolute gods.**

**If you review I will give you a troll doll.**


	10. All My Friends Are Getting Married

Saturday 3rd July.

The dreaded dinner. I had considered not turning up at all, but seeing it was my only excuse for not going to the one the night before, I was pretty sure I would be asked about how it went by a certain blonde woman.

I decided to wear jeans and some smart shirt Mum had bought me one Christmas. That way she would think that not only was I making an effort to look smart, I was also remembering something nice that _she _had bought me, thus complementing her fashion sense, thus making her happy before I even spoke a word. I was pretty sure it would also manage to create something for her to talk about if we got lost for conversation.

Yes, good choice.

"Hello dear," She gave me quick hug, before running back into the kitchen. I took my coat off, then followed her into the kitchen, laughing inside at her frenzied state. "I'm making beef Wellington," I think she thought this would explain to me why she was so stressed, but I had no clue about cooking, although I presumed it was a hard thing to make.

"When's Barry coming?" I picked at some bowls of nibbles she had left on the table.

"An hour or so,"

"An hour?" Why had she asked me to come so early? I could have watched another episode of Extras, maybe even two if I had been quicker in the shower.

"I thought it would be nice for us to catch up together," She turned around from the hob and smiled at me. "How is everything?"

"Everything is great," I popped a handful salted peanuts into my mouth.

"Girlfriend?"

"Nope,"

"You're not getting any younger, you know," As it turns out, I do actually have some understanding in the concept of growing older as time goes on.

"Don't start this," I groaned, munching on some crisps. They were really nice, a bit of an odd flavour, but nice.

"What? Am I not allowed to express my desire to have grandchildren one day? I'm just _trying _to help you,"

"Sure," I mumbled.

"Barry has three children,"

"Well, that's nice. If you play your cards right, maybe you can get a whole herd of _step_-grandkids,"

"Harry," She looked at me with the 'You know I love you,' look, which seemed to be coming up more frequently these past few months, what with all the talk about me needing a girlfriend. "They're all coming over tonight, by the way,"

"_What_?"

"Well, we both thought it would be easier," They did? Well, I guess it meant I didn't have to have _another_ dinner to meet the offspring. Bonus.

"How many people are you planning on feeding?"

"Well, they've left their kids, but they're all bringing their spouses," Was it just me or did she emphasise all? Reading between the lines, I pretty much figured that she meant to say 'They've all got other halves. But you don't, do you, Harry?'

"Names?" It would be embarassing if they found out I didn't know anyone's name, nevermind that until the that night I hadn't known of their existence. I don't know how, as we had only being talking about it for a max of 5 minutes, but I kind of got the impression Barry had a close relationship with his children. Maybe he had schedules for their nightly phone calls. Tom would phone at 7, followed by Dick at half past and then Harry would round the evening off at 8. Although, maybe they needed more time than half an hour each to tell dear old Daddy about their day.

Wow, I'd become very judgmental.

"Fiona's a few years older than you, Julian has just turned 30 and Liz is 24."

"The 24 year old is _married_?"

"She's engaged,"

"So, she's not really bringing a _spouse,_ is she," I pointed out bluntly.

"Tomato, tom-ar-to," She pulled her apron off over her head. "I'm off the get ready," She left, but her head quickly popped back around the door. "Don't touch the oven," She said, as an afterthought.

**Well I guess I should confess that I am starting to get old**  
**All the latest music fads all passed me by and left me cold**  
**All the kids are talking slang I won't pretend to understand**  
**All my friends are getting married, mortgages and pension plans**

**Title lyric from the beyond amazing Frank Turner. I used the whole verse at the end, because I would have used it all in the title if there wasn't a length limit.**


	11. It's a Family Affair

Saturday 3rd July.

"So," The table had been sat in silence for a few minutes whilst everyone ate. I wasn't sure if it was a 'comfortable' silence or an 'awkward' one, either way I was happy, there were no questions being directed at me, although apparently it looked like things were going to change, as Julian had just turned to look at me as he spoke. "Dad tells me you're a doctor?" I finished my mouth full.

"Um...yeah,"

"GP or...?"

"I'm a pathologist, actually,"

"Really?" His eyes widened.

"It's really not as exciting as things like CSI make it out to be,"

"I bet it's a thousand times better than being an insurance broker," I had to agree with that, so I smiled slightly and nodded my head.

"Little Lizzy wins the prize for best job in this family, of course," Fiona joined in the conversation, that is if you could call the awkward passing of a few sentences between the two of us a conversation.

"Is that right?" I turned to look at the youngest person at the table.

"I'm a photographer," She took a sip of wine. "I did one celebrity, so they decided I have the best job in the world," She looked accusingly at her siblings.

"That's not true. I do believe _my _job was the best in the world," Fiona smiled.

"The operative word being was, as in, you longer have that job," Julian teased his elder sibling, it reminded me of two kids fighting. I wondered if all siblings never grew out of the teasing, or if it was just these two.

"Well, it's not my fault I got pregnant,"

"Well, sis, you know..."

"Don't even finish that sentence." It was the first time Barry had spoken up for a while, though I think he was having his own conversation with Mum. "I think we all known enough about biology to not have to hear that," Everyone nodded in agreement, apart from Julian, who just sat with a massive grin on his face, impressed with himself. "Harry, do you like golf?" The other three people under 50 all groaned.

"Daaaad," Lizzy sighed, putting her head in her hands for a moment. I looked around in confusion.

"Err...I can't say I've ever really played,"

"Really? You should come to the club with me one day," I raised my eyebrows at the elder man. "I've tried with all of my 3, but apparently love for a sport isn't hereditary,"

"Sure, I could do that," Mum tried to suppress a laugh, but failed. "What?" I looked at her, attempting to understand the humour in my answer.

"Sweetie, you managed to break poor Richard's arm that time he forced you to play squash," Everyone laughed. "Oh, don't use your sulky face, I just never thought you'd partake in sport willingly," She nudged Barry with her elbow. "If you do take him, stand well away before he picks up the club,"

"I'm not _that _bad!"

"You are rather clumsy with sport equipment, dear,"

"Well, we can start at the driving range then," Barry smiled encouragingly. "It's all enclosed, so you'd have to be pretty skilled to hurt someone there," It was then that I realised just how serious Mum was about the guy, more over, how serious he was about her. I was being invited to play golf. That's a bonding session between men, right? I'd seen it on films where the future son-in-law did a similar thing, so I presumed maybe it worked the same for a future stepson.

I then realised I had been thinking about the possibility of Mum remarrying, which I wasn't quite ready for, so I stopped myself from allowing my mind to delve any further.

"I'm pretty busy with work, but I'm sure I could do it some time,"

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," Julian warned, laughing as he did. At that moment 'Hanging on the Telephone' begun blasting out of my pocket, Nikki had set it as the ring tone for her calls a few weeks before. She'd thought it was very clever, the combination of the telephone reference and that it was sung by Blondie ('And I'm blonde!' she had pointed out rather obviously, keeping up with the stereotype)

I pulled my phone out. "I'll be right back," I smiled, stood up and left the room, pressing the little green button as I did. "Hi,"


	12. Fathers, Be Good to Your Daughters

Sunday 4th July.

I'm not exactly sure why I decided to go over to her place, I probably just wanted to talk more. I hadn't managed to find out much about how meeting the kids had gone, because Mum came in requesting I 'either have hushed phone calls with a _girlfriend _or join us again for dessert'. It was tempting to point out that, technically, Nikki was a_ girl_ friend, what with her being of the fairer sex, but I held my tongue.

For the third Sunday in a row I found myself outside Nikki's building. I made a mental note to remind myself to get a life. There was a girl sat on the wall, she couldn't have been more than 13. She was probably waiting for a friend that lived in one of the apartments, Nikki mentioned that a single mum moved in last month. I buzzed for Nikki. No reply.

"She's not in," I turned around and stared at the girl.

"Huh?"

"Well, that or they're ignoring both of us,"

"They're?"

"My dad said he'd be here today,"

"Oooh," Nikki had said that his eldest was just about 13; he'd been a few years above her at Uni. "You're David's eldest?"

"Yes," She stretched out a hand for me to shake. "Lucy. You must be Harry?" I raised my eyebrow, wondering how she knew who I was. "There's pictures of you everywhere,"

"Oh." I stayed stood up for a few awkward minutes, before sitting down next to her on the wall. "So, how was the dinner?"

"Nice." She picked at her t-shirt. "Nikki's really nice,"

"I know,"

"How come you're here?"

"I had to meet my Mum's boyfriend last night, so I guess we're in pretty similar situations," I started kicking the small stones, that were at my feet, across the path. "I was just going to come talk to Nikki about it," She nodded, before pulling out a mobile phone. "You?"

"Why am I here?" I nodded. "Err...Mum's just in a really bad mood, Dad said he'd be here all day, told me to drop in if I wanted,"

"And he's...forgotten?"

"Seems like it," She looked at me, then looked away again, as if rethinking what she was going to say. "How old were you when your parents got divorced?"

"My...they didn't divorce, my Dad died,"

"Oh, I'm sorry,"

"Don't be." I smiled slightly. "You know Nikki really is great, you'll really like her,"

"She probably is." She joined in with the pebble kicking. "But she's the reason for all this, so I don't think I'll be crazy about her any time soon,"

"You know, I think she really is sorry. But...I mean...if it's love, you just have to go for it, I think."

"Have you ever been in love?" I decided there and then to never have children, or if I did, to work out a way for them to never be able to ask me questions.

"Wow."

"Sorry, I'm really nosey," Never.

"Erm...well," I realise I was very ineloquent, but I had never really been in a situation quite like this, so I think I can be forgiven. "I've been in relationships where I thought I was in love at the time, but none of them lasted, so I guess I couldn't have been."

"What, so if the relationship doesn't work out it was never love?" Suddenly I started questioning what I said, which doesn't happen often.

"Well, yeah. It's meant to be eternal, isn't it? One true love and everything."

"It's _meant _to be, doesn't mean it is."

"What?"

"Well, to quote Forrest Gump, shit happens," It was surreal really. There was a girl sat next to me, acting like an adult, telling and asking me all these deep things that I was listening to and taking in, and I wasn't even sure if she was old enough to be swearing. "Just because the universe means you can't be together, it doesn't mean you're not meant to be together," I took a while to think over what she'd said. "I'm pretty sure my Mum and Dad are or at least were in love, but things happened and now they aren't together any more. Doesn't mean they don't or never did love each other."

"And you're Dad and Nikki, they're in love?"

"I hope so." With hearing those 3 words I felt an indescribable amount of pity towards her. To have to hope that your father was in love with another woman, so all the pain wasn't pointless, even though the other half of you desperately wanted him to still love your mother, seemed a lot harder than anything I'd done.

"How is it to you know so much more than me and you're more than half my age?"

"Because I'm a smart arse." I back tracked on my desire to never have children and decided that I wanted one exactly like the one in front of me now.

"Are you hungry?"

And that, was how I ended up eating takeaway pepperoni pizza, outside Nikki's apartment, with a 13 year old, slagging off the American version of The Office and discussing who should win X factor.

**Please review because I love it more than anything. Also, check out my other stories and review those, because then I'll love you more than I love my pillow.**


	13. Drink Sangria in the Park

**Sorry for how ridiculously long it has been since I updated this. And sorry for this filler chapter, I know it's not very interesting. **

Sunday 25th July.

I don't know why, that day, of all days, I woke up late. I hadn't even drunk anything. The phone ringing as I pulled on my shirt really wasn't what I needed to hear. There was no way I had time for a phone call.

"Sorry, really can't talk now, I'll call you back later,"

"_It's Leo."_ Shit. I checked the clock again. It definitely only said 8, I had another half hour_. "Don't bother coming in today, all the air conditioning and things are broken and the technicians are having to ice pack all the bodies. There's no way we can get anything done,"_ I breathed a sigh of relief, which I think may have been a little too obvious. _"Still need that report doing, though," _

"Of course," I smiled at the thought of a whole day in bed; there was no way I was going to spend it writing up paperwork. It was like being school age and waking up to see the ground covered in white and your Mum telling you that you have a snow day. I had already begun hopping about, trying to pull my trousers off with one hand so that I could get straight back into bed.

"_Maybe instead of sleeping, you could work on it today,"_ Typical Leo, being able to read me like a book even when he couldn't see my face_. "I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing before you realised you were going to be late for work."_ With that he hung up, which coincided with me finally getting my trousers off. I dropped the phone on the floor and flopped back onto the bed, pulling the covers over me. It wasn't as comfortable as it had seemed when I was woke up, but then again, it never is.

I rolled over, attempting to shield my eyes from the little bits of sunlight that were creeping through my blinds and into the room. The phone rang. I have never wished death upon an inanimate object as much as I did then.

"Hello?" I said, sitting upright. But that time I was wide awake and sleeping was going to be hopeless.

"_It's Nikki,"_

"Oh, hi,"

"_Do you want to go for a picnic?"_

"A picnic?"

"_Yeah, you know, food, drinks, basket, blanket," _

"I am aware of the components,"

"_My place in an hour? We can walk to the park," _I wondered why she was asking _me _to a picnic. It was the sort of thing couples did; she should have been asking David.

"Where's David?"

"_Working." _Right. I was choice number 2. It took a lot of getting used to, the whole not being Nikki's number 1 go to guy. _"But, I would have asked you even if he wasn't. I feel like we haven't met up in forever," _This was quite true. We saw each other at work, obviously, but I genuinely couldn't recall meeting up outside of work since before my dinner with Barry and co. I hadn't even seen her the day I met Lucy. It had gotten to about 8 and nobody had turned up, so I drove her home and then visited Leo and Janet. When I thought about it, I had spent most of my time visiting Leo and Janet in the past weeks.

"Alright. Want me to bring anything?"

"_Wine," _

"Will do," I was about to hang up.

"_HARRY!" _She screamed so loudly that I thought briefly that maybe someone was in her apartment, coming at her wife a knife. _"PIMMS! I have a massive bottle of Pimms in the cupboard! We can make Pimms!" _

"Ok," I laughed. "We'll make Pimms. Do you want me to bring lemonade?"

"_Yes!"_

"I'll see you in a bit,"

In a bit ended up being an hour and a half, as it seemed everyone in London had decided to visit the same Tesco as me. When I got there, Nikki was stood outside waiting for me, a large basket on the floor next to her and a rug under her arm. She had the prettiest flowery dress on, I let myself watch for a little bit as it blew around in the light breeze.

"Come on," She urged. "You take the basket, I'll take the other stuff," She pointed at the carrier bag I was holding, which held 2 bottles of lemonade. I would have complained, but, looking at her arms, I did genuinely fear that one might snap off if she was made to lift anything remotely heavy. I lifted up the basket and we set off for the park.

"Oatcakes, good call," We'd just set out our blanket and I had started rummaging through the basket, whilst Nikki was trying to figure out what the ratio of Pimms to lemonade should be. "What have we got to put on them?"

"Mushroom pate," I nodded in approval before continuing my search.

"Smoked salmon, very posh,"

"It's your favourite,"

"I am aware, thank you," I thought about what her favourite food was. I decided it had to be a tossup between bacon carbonara and chicken Caesar salad. "Why the hell have you brought these?" I held the offending item up. "Who brings a set of boules to a 2 person picnic? No wonder it's so bloody heavy,"

"Stop whinging,"

It turned out that, actually, we did play boules. I won; of course she made up the excuse that the sun was in her eyes so she couldn't see the target properly, although when I offered her a rematch and my sunglasses she refused. Sore loser.


	14. Its Not Like Me to Make Your Heart Break

Monday 23rd August

"Are you ok?" I asked cautiously. Nikki had just walked through the door, 50 minutes late, her hair out of place and her make up slightly smudged. She grumbled a reply, which, even if she had been trying to say yes, I took as a no. "Leo went out on a case really early; he'll be out for at least another 2 hours." She just nodded and flopped down into her chair, staring blankly at the wall behind me. I stood up, went over to where I had hung up my coat and searched the pockets, before returning to our desks. I leant over her shoulder and dropped the small copper coin on the desk in front of her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I sat on her desk and smiled. Her eyes flickered and looked at me for a moment, before returning to focusing on the wall. "Niks,"

"She won't sign the papers." She looked up at me, her eyes glazed over with tears.

"The divorce papers?" She nodded.

"I'm still a cheating whore because she won't sign." She looked up at me pleadingly, but I didn't know what she wanted me to do, there was nothing I _could _do. "I'm still a slut who's sleeping with someone else's husband."

"You've never been either of those things." It was a stupid attempt at trying to console her; I should have known it wouldn't work.

"Don't lie." She didn't say them bitterly or with blame, just with honesty. Her words were honest. A fact. I knew they were true, as did she. "When I told you about him those were the exact words that went through your head." I wanted to protest, even though she was right. I just wanted to make her feel better; somehow. "Harry. I ruined her life." _And now she's ruining mine. _She didn't need to elaborate; I understood the meaning, even if it had been left unsaid.

"You don't want to marry him, right?"

"I will do."

"But not right now?" I prayed that she would say no. Then I felt selfish and horrible. I thought back to what Lucy had said and realised maybe it was time I grew up and started looking out for someone other than myself. They, Nikki and David, had single-handedly managed to destroy the lives that a family had built for themselves. They had completely changed my most valued friendship. They had hurt everyone they were supposed to love. All because they loved each other and wanted to be together. Which meant the needed to be together, to make it all worth it; for everyone's sakes they _had _to be together. Forever. Happily ever after.

"Not _right _now." She admitted. "But one day. Someday."

"Well, unless you want to elope to Vegas anytime soon, her not signing the papers doesn't affect anything." I reasoned. "He's separated from her. He's yours." And you're his; which is just great for me.

"There's nothing stopping..." She looked down at her desk, as if embarrassed to be saying what she was. "God, this sounds pathetic." I waited for her to continue. "There's nothing stopping him getting back together with her."

"Nikki..."

"Don't say anything, ok?" She began trying to sort her hair out. "I want him to be _mine. _I know you can't own people and I know he left her and I know I'm being selfish and insecure and that I should be happy that he left her in the first place. But I want him to be _mine_."

"He's never going to be all yours, Nikki." I know it sounds brutal and mean and a horrible thing to say when I was meant to be helping her. But it was true. And after everything I couldn't bring myself to lie to her anymore. I didn't want to break her heart, but somehow I suddenly found myself without any intention of mending it. "He has kids. Kids that aren't _yours_." I held her hand, hoping that in some way it would stop me sounding so harsh. "If he's even a semi-decent father, most of him will always belong to them."

She stayed silent after that. I wasn't sure how much I'd offended her, or whether I hadn't offended her at all and she was just taking a while to process everything. My phone buzzed.

_Harold. Will you be at the dinner tomorrow?_

I'd given my number to Lucy the second time we'd met (at one of the numerous dinner's Nikki had arranged to try and get the kids to like her). She'd wanted my help on a question in her biology homework, but she couldn't remember whether it was about plant respiration or human. She'd texted me the question the day after and I'd texted a hint in return. It ended up being a recurrent thing that whenever she needed help on science homework, she'd ask and I'd text back a clue. Eventually we ended up getting onto talking about what we'd done during the day or what we were going to do. It was a little, if not completely, weird friendship that we somehow formed, but I liked it.

_I was going to, but if you're going to be there I might miss it._

_See you at 7, science geek._

"Lucy?" Nikki asked. I knew she was jealous. Why couldn't she be the homework buddy? She was a doctor too; she knew just as much about science as I did.

"Yes," I said, a little guiltily, not wanting to upset her anymore than I already had done. Suddenly realising that, even though I wanted to be able to be frank and honest with her without feeling guilty, it was unlikely I would ever be able to.

"She's going to come tomorrow, isn't she?"

"Of course."

"Do you think she only comes because you're there?"

"I think she comes because she likes seeing one of her parents being happy." It was true, at least partially. David bribed her to go, something Nikki hadn't yet found out about and I refused to be the one to tell her. "You make him happy. You don't need some stupid divorce papers for proof."

**Chapter lyric from Don't Haunt This Place by The Rural Alberta Advantage**


	15. I'm Going Up the Country

Friday 27th August

Mornings. Should. Be. Banned.

It should be illegal for anything to be arranged for before midday; work, dates, meetings. Whatever it is, it should be illegal for it to occur before 12.

"You're such a morning person," She chirped as I sat down at my desk, which she had ever so kindly vacated for me as I shuffled through the door.

"Why are you so jolly?" The dinner on Tuesday had gone surprisingly well, actually; so well that I actually stayed past 9 for what I think must have been the first time.

"No particular reason," I looked at her warily. "What?"

"Spill the beans," I pretended to be more interested than I really was; no doubt it would be something about him. "Is it Tiger?"

"Why do you call him Tiger?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Began attempting to get some work done, though Nikki seemed insistent on carrying on the conversation.

"Is it one of your witty nicknames that nobody finds remotely clever or funny apart from yourself?"

"Such a thing doesn't exist. All my nicknames are funny,"

"Keep dreaming," She was still smiling.

"Come on, what's Tiger done?"

"_David_ is taking me away,"

"Permanently?"

"No,"

"I thought it was too good to be true,"

"Git," Her smile grew even wider, something I didn't think was possible. "He's taking me up north for the weekend," We'd arranged to go out to the theatre that night; I'd bought tickets and everything, but I thought it best not to bring it up. She looked so delighted, any sign of stress had been wiped clear off her face and I got reminded of the old Nikki. It wasn't fair to make her feel guilty over something as trivial as a West End show. And, plus, I couldn't really make a scene – from the morning banter, she seemed to have forgiven me for the my harshness the night before, although, I wasn't actually sure if she'd been offended by it in the first place, so unsure whether there was anything _to _forgive. Better safe than sorry though. I decided I'd give them away to Leo and Janet.

"Up north? Christ, Niks, are you sure you're ready for time travel?" Of course I was joking. I love Yorkshire – well, the pretty bits of it at least. The Bronte bit.

"Git,"

"Don't you think it's time you got found a new thing to call me?" I called as she made her way towards the cutting room.

"Git," She threw back over her shoulder.

"See, there you go again,"

She spent most of the day in the cutting room, double checking things that had she had probably already double checked. Many times I had wondered if there was anything she enjoyed more than her job; maybe it was why I was so surprised when she said she had a long term boyfriend. I couldn't imagine her ever being committed to anything else.

"So, you're going tonight?" I asked at the end of the day, when she finally took a break from her dead bodies. I was hoping the answer would be a no; maybe she would be able to come to the show after all.

"Yep, 2 nights of relaxation," 2 nights of sex. "It looks like it has the nicest spa,"

"Like you'll leave the room," I mumbled. I really could be a bitter so and so occasionally.

"What?"

"Just wondering how insanely expensive it must be," I gave myself a pat on the back – good save, Harry.

"See, this is why you'll never keep a woman, you're not willing to spoil her,"

"That's a brilliant theory, Niks, because all relationships need to be based on the solid foundation of money," She just rolled her eyes and looked at her watch.

"Well, Mr Sarcky, I'm going to have love you and leave you,"

"Good riddance," I grinned, and she flipped her middle finger at me in return. Leo came in then, returning from a call out.

"Have a nice weekend!" He called after her.

"You too!"

"Hey, Leo?"

"Yes?" He stopped at the door to his office and turned to look at me.

"Are you and Janet busy tonight?" I held the tickets up.

"I hope you're not suggesting some sort of double date,"

"That would require 4 tickets," I pointed out. "No, it's a gift. I was going to go with someone, but she cancelled last minute,"

"Oh, I hope...you're ok," I couldn't help laughing at Leo's awkward attempts at comfort.

"My broken heart will slowly mend," I began packing up. "It was just a casual date. Are you free?"

"We'd love them, thank you,"

"You're welcome," I handed them to him on my way out. "Have fun,"

I felt like a male Bridget Jones as I returned to my apartment, alone, with a ready meal from Tesco Express tucked under my arm; all I needed to complete the look was a cigarette dangling from my mouth.

6 messages on my answering machine.

"_Harry, call me as soon as you get in,"_

Delete.

"_Harry, I thought you were normally back from work by now. Anyway, call me,"_

Delete.

The next 4 messages followed along the same lines, and reluctantly, as I set the microwave going, I picked up the phone and called her.

"Hi,"

"_Harry dear, did you get all my messages?"_

"Yes, Mum. What did you need?"

"_Are you busy tomorrow night?" _

"I'm..." Desperately trying to think up an excuse? Not interested in attending a dinner with your WI group? Tempted to hang up? "Free," I wish I was better at lying to her.

"_That's great! My friend Lizanne, you remember Lizanne don't you? Richard's wife, used to give you a scarf every Christmas, daughter went..."_

When she had finally finished trying to remind me of a woman, whom I was fairly certain I had never met, she explained that Lizanne was having a party, and she wanted me to come with her. I accepted, not in the mood to argue and hoping to get off the phone as soon as possible, and then spent the rest of my night watching The Office on DVD, all the time wondering at what point my life had become so depressing that my only viable Saturday night date option was my mother.

**I haven't written this in such a long time that I have actually forgotten what direction I was going to take it in. I have consequently thought up a little something, and as it's Christmas Holidays soon, hopefully I'll update it more than once a year. ;)**


	16. What's Your Name, What's Your Number?

Saturday 28th August

I arrived at 7:30, a little late, fashionably, I hoped. I then proceeded to spend an hour or so stuffing my face, so that whenever someone asked me a question, I was eating and therefore it was seen as being polite to not answer them. It was a technique I'd mastered after long nights as a teenager at Mum's book club meetings. Every new buffet presented a new challenge, and it would take me a few minutes to test everything and find whatever took longest to chew, then I'd stick with that for the rest of the evening. This night, it was chicken wings.

Once 9:30 came around, the buffet was seriously dilapidated, and if I used the toilet excuse one more time to escape a conversation, Mum would have offered me some of her Tena Lady for my bladder weakness. I had yet to work out what the party was actually for and wondered if once I was retired I'd become bored enough to spend hours preparing a party for my few remaining friends and anyone else I could cobble together. There were a few faces I recognised from Mum's book club and other traumatising adult events I had been forced to attend as a child; I was fairly sure I was the only person below the age of 60, meaning all the children who I had sneakily stolen bottles of beer with as a teenager, now had lives of their own – which made me feel terribly pathetic.

Unfortunately, I couldn't escape completely, as Mum had insisted we carpool to 'save the environment', conveniently meaning she could also drink; so instead, I snuck out of the French doors into the dark garden.

There was a climbing frame, presumably for the grandchildren when they came to visit. Mum probably wanted a climbing frame in her garden.

As I got closer, I could make out the shape of someone swinging to and fro on one of the swings. I turned back around, hoping that maybe the front garden wouldn't be already taken.

"Don't leave on my account," Shit, maybe I wasn't as stealth as I had always thought. I turned back around, and made my way towards the woman's voice, perching myself on the swing next to her.

A small amount of light, escaped from the windows of the house, hung around her face, allowing me to see that she was around about my age. She had a round face – not plump, nor fat, but her cheek bones weren't as defined as Nikki's and I had the feeling make-up wasn't a necessity for her daily life, unlike my best friend. Also, unlike Nikki, she didn't look comfortable in the medium length, tight fitting dress she was wearing, from the way she constantly pulled it down, as if scared to show the slightest bit of flesh above the knee; I couldn't quite work out the colour in the dim light, and neither could I make out where the neckline stopped, but I had a feeling neither were overly daring or bold. She looked a lot older than she should have.

But did she?

I wondered if Nikki – beautiful, carefree, time to spare, perpetually single Nikki – had given me an unrealistic expectation of what women my age were like. How many of them would be able to mingle with my 20-something girlfriends, and not look at all out of place? Was that just Nikki? Was I unfairly comparing this woman to someone who was a completely anomalous result? Maybe she didn't look old, maybe Nikki just looked young.

"Bored of tales of the 60s?"

"Who could ever get bored of that?" I smiled. "Harry," I reached a hand out.

"Maggie,"

"I thought I was the only non- octogenarian at this rave; I didn't see you earlier...?"

"Oh, I escaped very quickly. Very, very quickly,"

"Wish I'd done the same," Then there was silence, as if we were both holding our breath.

"So, what brings you to be spending your Saturday night here?"

"A combination of being a wonderful, dutiful son," I paused. "And having no life of my own." I paused again. "It's about 99% the second part." She laughed, airily. "Yourself?"

"Mum felt I needed to get out of the house and meet a man,"

"I hear Bill's looking,"

"Bill?"

"Kinda short, little bit chubby, nice enough guy, I think,"

"80 year old Bill whose wife just popped her clogs?"

"That's the ticket!"

"He's in there?" She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the house.

"Yep,"

"Why didn't someone tell me earlier?" She jumped up from the swing. "Think I've missed my chance?"

"Probably," She sat down again, faking disappointment. "So, what do you do when you're not meeting men at pensioner parties?"

"I'm a mum," I had never heard anyone describe themselves as 'just a parent' before. Of course I had friends who were parents, but most of them were men, and most of those were not the main parent. "But before my hips got ruined, I was a journalist. And now that I'm beginning to get some of my life back, I'm a journalist again,"

"Kids growing up and leaving home?"

"Try husband messing up and leaving home."

"Right." Was I meant to say sorry, as if it were a death she was grieving? Probably not. "Sorry," I said it anyway – after all, you can never go wrong with a good, heartfelt sorry.

"Oh, don't be – if anything, it should be congratulations,"

"Well, congratulations then," I raised my bottle and she clinked her glass against it.

"HARRY!" Brilliant. "HARRY, WE'RE GOING HOME!"

"That's the mother,"

"I guessed,"

"I better go,"

"I'll see you at the next one of these?"

"Can't wait," I got off my swing, and made my way up to the French doors. "Hi, Mum,"

"What were you doing out there?"

"Just getting some fresh air,"

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," And then I had an idea. "Err, I think I left my phone, I'll be right back," I turned and jogged back down the garden.

"Hello again?" She looked surprised at my quick reappearance.

"Hi," I rummaged about in my pockets, withdrawing my phone. "So, I was talking to Bill,"

"Bill?"

"Yes,"

"And what did you say to Bill?"

"I told him there was a very nice, beautiful lady available,"

"Ok..."

"And he said he'd seen you, and he thought it was a shame he didn't get to talk to you more,"

"Did he?"

"Yes. So, then, being the kind soul that I am, I offered to get your number for him."

"Really?" She smiled.

"Yes, so, please may I have your number?"

"For Bill?"

"For Bill, of course, for Bill,"

"And that phone that you're putting my number into, is Bill's?" I looked down at my iPhone.

"He's a silver surfer,"

"07743549285,"

"I'll get him to call you,"

"Make sure he remembers,"

**Please, please, please review.**


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